


Cuddle 2

by MyDearFae



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Football, Kissing, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDearFae/pseuds/MyDearFae
Summary: A month after they spent the night together on the Grumps couch, Dan and Arin hash out their feelings and take the next step in their relationship.





	Cuddle 2

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to Cuddle, and the second part of what I think will be a 4 part series.

It was almost 10 A.M., and Arin was running late.  
He had, somehow, managed to go to bed the night before without setting his alarm, so he'd woken up much later than he'd intended. On top of that, the night had been unseasonably warm, so he'd woken up in no condition to skip taking a shower. So now, at five 'til ten, he was at least 15 minutes away from the Grump office, where he and Dan were scheduled to start recording at ten. At almost quarter after, he finally pulled into the office parking lot, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Dan's parking space was empty. Arin hated being late, but at least he wasn't the only one.  
He made his way up to the Grump office; it was empty, at least for the time being, since no one other than him and Dan were scheduled to be there until at least noon.. Arin sat down at his desk, ran a hand through his still damp hair, and thought about what he could work on while he waited for Dan. He had plenty to do, but he didn't feel motivated to do any of it. While he was trying to psych himself up enough to do at least a little work, his phone vibrated. He picked it up and saw a text from Dan, saying that traffic was terrible and he was on his way. Arin smiled and texted back that he'd been late himself. He put his phone down and reached for some paperwork he'd been putting off—but now that Dan was on his mind, his focus was shot. He gave up on work, leaned back in his chair, and let his mind wander.  
Really, Dan had been on Arin's mind since well before that text message had come. It had been a month since the two of them had spent the night together on the Grumps couch, and since then, Arin hadn't been able to think of much besides Dan. The first few days after hadn't been bad: once he'd gone home and showered and been alone he'd been able to laugh it off as just a s silly night between friends and put it out of his mind. But as soon as he'd seen Dan again, the feelings from that night had rushed back, and from there, Arin was fighting a losing battle. It was exactly what he'd worried would happen: the half crush he'd had on Dan for as as long as he'd known him had gone from being well managed to out of control. For weeks now, he'd thought about Dan and that night—Dan mostly naked, Dan in his arms, Dan's hand over his. He'd daydreamed about it; he'd dreamt about it. And now it was a challenge just to be around Dan. Arin had seen him a handful of times since that night and he had felt more awkward each time. Despite his best efforts to act normal around Dan, he knew that Dan was starting to pick up on it. The last thing Arin wanted was for Dan to bring it up and to have to talk about it. Explaining these particular feelings to Dan sounded like it would be awkward and unpleasant. And Dan didn't seem to be harboring any feelings, weird or crush-like or otherwise, about that night.  
Arin was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the office door opening and closing as Dan arrived; he jumped when Dan tapped him gently on the shoulder.  
“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” said Dan, smiling. “I thought you might be asleep.”  
“No,” said Arin, leaning forward in his chair. “Just spacing out.”  
“Well, are you ready to record?”  
“Sure.”  
Arin stood and followed Dan to the recording space. For a few minutes they worked in silence, Dan adjusting his mic and getting comfortable on the couch, Arin gathering controllers and turning on equipment. When Arin sat down on the couch, he made sure to sit on his side, leaning against the arm, as far away from Dan as possible.  
“Do I smell or something?” asked Dan, his tone mostly joking.  
“No,” said Arin. “I'm just comfortable over here.”  
“Whatever you say,” said Dan.  
Arin pulled his mic closer to him and picked up a controller. “Are you ready to start?” he asked without looking at Dan.  
“Yep,” said Dan, switching on his mic.  
Arin switched his mic on as well; he cleared his throat, leaned forward, and said, “Welcome back to Game Grumps.”  
As the session got going, it became clear to Arin that Dan was in a chatty mood. It was a relief to not have to carry on a normal conversation, and Arin was content to focus on the game and let Dan do most of the talking. Three episodes in, Dan excused himself to go to the bathroom; as soon as he was gone, Arin relaxed. He felt like he'd been holding his breath, so he forced himself to breathe deeply.  
When Dan returned, Arin didn't look up, but he could feel Dan watching him as he sat down on the couch. Arin opened his mouth to ask if Dan was ready to get back to recording, but before he could speak, Dan did.  
“Are you OK, Arin?” he asked.  
“Yeah,” said Arin. “I'm fine.”  
“Are you sure? Because you seem a little off. You've seemed a little off for the past few weeks.”  
“I'm fine,” Arin repeated. He glanced over at Dan and their eyes met briefly before he looked away; that split second was enough for Arin to see that Dan didn't believe him.  
“I know you pretty damn well, Arin,” said Dan. “And I know you're lying to me right now.”  
“No, I'm not,” said Arin. “You're crazy.”  
Dan turned so that he was facing Arin. “Tell me what's going on,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Tell me. While we're between episodes and we're the only ones here. Tell me what's wrong.”  
Arin signed. On one hand, he didn't want to lie to Dan—he never lied to Dan. On the other, he didn't love the idea of telling Dan how he felt and having a conversation about it. He turned to face Dan, finally looking him in the eye. Dan's expression was nothing but encouraging, so Arin decided to put his cards on the table.  
“OK,” said Arin. “I know this is stupid, and I know it wasn't a big deal, but—remember when we spent the night here about a month ago?”  
Dan nodded, and Arin thought he saw a slight blush rise to his cheeks.  
“Well,” Arin continued. “Ever since that night I've just felt a little . . . I don't know. Awkward and weird around you.” He paused and laughed nervously. “I guess that night just gave me some confusing feelings about you and I'm not really sure how to deal with it.”  
“I see,” said Dan.  
“Yeah,” said Arin. “But I'll figure it out and in the meantime I'll try to be less weird when I'm around you.” He smiled at Dan, but Dan didn't smile back. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” said Arin, his smile fading.  
“I'm not upset,” said Dan. “I think I'm confused. Because when we talked about it that morning, you said it hadn't felt weird and that you were OK with what happened.”  
“I know,” said Arin. “And I was telling the truth.”  
“Then why is it confusing now?” asked Dan.  
“It just is,” said Arin. “I said I'm working on it—can we just drop it?”  
“I just don't understand and I want to,” said Dan.  
“It's confusing because of how much I enjoyed it,” Arin said. “I thought I was fine the next morning but since then I can't stop thinking about you and that night and that makes me feel awkward around you.”  
Dan's expression shifted from encouraging to surprised, and from surprised to almost relieved. He smiled, then laughed, and Arin wasn't sure what to make of it.  
“I'm glad you think it's funny,” he said after a moment.  
“I don't think think it's funny at all,” said Dan. “In fact—oh, Arin.”  
“What?” asked Arin.  
“I feel exactly the same way,” said Dan.  
Arin stared at Dan. His heart rate quickened and he felt himself starting to smile. “You do?” he asked. “Really?”  
“I guess I hid it better than you,” said Dan.  
Arin laughed. He'd never felt so simultaneously relieved and happy. “You did.”  
“But I've been thinking about you since that night too, and I enjoyed it. And not just because I was lonely and needed it, but because it was . . . y'know, us.”  
“I'm glad to hear that,” said Arin.  
“In fact,” said Dan. “I kind of want to do it again. If you do.”  
“I do,” said Arin. “I don't know if I want to spend the night here again, though.”  
“Me either,” said Dan. “Why don't you come over on Sunday? The Giants are playing the Broncos and I'd love someone to watch the game with.”  
“I think that sounds great,” said Arin, his nerves rising as he said it.  
From behind them came the sound of the door opening as someone else arrived at the office. Dan and Arin nodded at one another and turned back to their mics. But before he hit play on the game, Arin slid closer to Dan on the couch and let his knee graze Dan's for the rest of the recording session.

The following Sunday afternoon, Arin arrived at Dan's, his stomach in knots. He parked his car, reminded himself that he was just going to spend the afternoon hanging out with Dan (something he'd done hundreds of times before), and headed for the front door. He knocked, and a few seconds later Dan, dressed in jeans and a worn Giants jersey, opened it.  
“Hey,” he said, grinning.  
“Hey,” Arin replied, his voice more confident than he felt.  
“Come in,” said Dan, stepping aside to let Arin in. “They're just finishing up pre-game coverage.”  
Arin stepped inside and slid off his shoes while Dan shut and locked the front door, then he followed Dan to the living room. Dan settled on the couch and tucked his legs beneath him; when Arin hesitated, he patted the spot next to him.  
“Sorry,” said Arin, sitting down beside—but not too close to—Dan. “I'm a little nervous.”  
“So am I,” said Dan. “But we're just going to relax, watch the game, and see what happens.”  
“Right,” said Arin. “Even though I know absolutely nothing about said game.”  
Dan laughed. “I know you don't,” he said. “Honestly, it's kind of adorable.”  
Arin felt his cheeks grow hot. He looked at Dan and said, “You're making me blush.”  
“Well, that's adorable too.” As Dan said it, he slid his arm around Arin's shoulder.  
On the TV, the game was about to start. “Who are the Giants playing?” asked Arin.  
“The Denver Broncos.”  
“And they're the ones in . . . . “  
“Blue and orange.”  
“Got it,” said Arin.  
“Would you like me to explain the actual game?” asked Dan.  
“Definitely not,” said Arin. “I'll just cheer when you cheer and get upset when you get upset.”  
“OK,” said Dan with a laugh. He tightened his grip on Arin's shoulders a little; when Arin remained where he was, Dan continued, “Do you want to move a little closer?”  
The words made Arin blush (again), but he nodded and obliged, sliding over until the gap between him and Dan was gone and their legs were touching. From there it felt natural to lean into Dan and rest his head just below Dan's shoulder; once Arin was comfortable, Dan said, “That's better.”  
“I agree,” said Arin.  
The game started, and Arin tried to follow along, but being so physically close to Dan was far too distracting. He felt hyper aware of everything: the softness of the jersey fabric beneath his cheek; the way Dan smelled, faintly but pleasantly, of cologne and laundry soap; the way Dan's hair brushed against his ear. As nervous as he felt, Arin was nothing but content to be sitting here with Dan, not really talking, just being together. It was exactly what he'd wanted to do since that night at the office.  
As the first quarter of the game came to a close, Arin felt bold enough to slide his arm around Dan's waist, letting his hand rest on Dan's hip. When the second quarter started, Dan moved his free hand from the couch arm to rest over Arin's, intertwining their fingers. The sensation made Arin's heart speed up and his breath catch; in an effort to distract himself, he tried, again, and mostly unsuccessfully, to follow the game.  
When the second quarter ended and half time coverage began, Arin slid his hand out of Dan's, sat up, and stretched. He looked at Dan, and when their eyes met, they smiled at each other.  
“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked Dan.  
“Definitely,” said Arin. “Are you?”  
“I am.”  
“Because I'm here or because the Giants are winning?” asked Arin.  
“I'd say it's 50/50,” said Dan. When Arin gave him a look, he laughed and added, “Just kidding.”  
The third quarter of the game kicked off, and Dan gestured for Arin to sit with him again. Arin did so happily, and this time, he settled into Dan's arms easily. Dan wrapped his arms around Arin, holding him more closely than he had before. Arin let one of his hands rest flat against Dan's chest, just as he had the night they'd spent together. It felt far more intimate, far less platonic, than it had during the first half of the game, and Arin gave up on trying to follow what was happening on the TV. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Eventually, he felt Dan's head drop to rest on top of his, and he got the feeling that Dan wasn't paying much attention to the game either.  
At some point, he felt Dan's head shift, and then, to his surprise, he felt Dan press a soft kiss to the top of his head. It had been so gentle that Arin thought he might be wrong—but then Dan did it again, and this time, there was no question. Dan had just kissed him. Arin gasped quietly.  
“Is that OK?” whispered Dan?  
“Yes,” Arin whispered back.  
For the rest of the third quarter, the kisses continued, Dan pressing one to Arin's head every few minutes; each time he did it, Arin's heart skipped a beat. As the fourth quarter started, Arin was very aware that if he just turned his head slightly towards Dan, Dan's lips would meet his. It was beyond tempting, and each time Dan kissed his head, it got more tempting.  
The game was almost over when Arin finally worked up the nerve to do it. He felt Dan move to kiss him, and he turned; just as he'd expected, Dan's lips brushed his. That was all it was—that was all Arin let it be—a brush. As soon as it happened, Arin dropped his head back to Dan's shoulder. His heart was racing and his cheeks were burning and he hoped he hadn't just completely offended Dan and ruined everything and he wanted to do it again . . . before he could vocalize any of what he was thinking, he felt Dan's hand on his chin. Arin didn't fight it; he turned his head up to Dan, and their lips met again. It was more than a brush this time. Dan's lips were pressed firmly to Arin's, and Arin couldn't believe it was happening, or how good it felt. He'd wanted to kiss Dan for a long, long time, and Dan's hand on his cheek, almost holding him in place, made it even better than he'd imagined.  
Arin pulled away to take a breath, sitting up so that he could look Dan in the eye. He didn't know what to say. Dan moved his hand from Arin's cheek and rain it through his hair; he smiled sheepishly at Arin.  
“I'm really sorry if that crossed the line,” said Dan.  
“No, I . . . no. It didn't.”  
“So it would be OK if I . . .” Dan leaned in as he spoke, kissing Arin again; Arin gladly kissed back. He felt one of Dan's hands come to rest on his knee and realized that he had no idea what to do with his hands. He started to move them to Dan's shoulders, but he hesitated and let them drop back to his lap.  
Dan pulled away. “Are you OK?” he asked.  
“Yeah, I'm fine,” said Arin. “More than fine. I'm just not sure . . .”  
Dan smiled. “It's OK” he said. He took Arin's hands and guided them to his shoulder, then moved his hands to Arin's hips. “Is that all right?”  
Arin nodded, and when Dan kissed him again, he slid his hands around Dan's neck In turn, he felt Dan's hands move from his hips to around his waist. Dan leaned into him, pressing their torsos together. Arin couldn't help but lean back from Dan's weight, and before he'd even registered what had happened, his back was on the couch and Dan was on top of him, kissing him even more passionately. For a minute, it was incredible. Arin ran his hands down Dan's back and savored the feeling of jersey fabric and tensed muscle.  
And just as suddenly as it had started, it was too much, and Arin felt the need to get up. He moved his hands to Dan's shoulders and pushed gently; Dan stopped kissing him and pulled away.  
“Do you need me to stop?” he asked.  
Arin nodded, and Dan sat up, pulling himself off of Arin and settling back into his spot on the couch. Arin sat up too, relieved and disappointed.  
“I'm sorry,” said Arin. “That was really great. I just got a little overwhelmed.”  
“It's OK,” said Dan. “I don't mind at all. And I'm a little overwhelmed right now too.”  
Arin smiled. “I'm glad it's not just me.”  
Dan glanced at the TV and laughed. “Well, we missed the last chunk of the game,” he said. “But the Giants won, so that's good.”  
“Sorry you didn't actually see them win.”  
“Oh, it was worth it,” said Dan with a grin.  
“You're making me blush—again,” said Arin as his face grew hot.  
“Then I'll tell you—again—that it's adorable.”  
Arin rolled his eyes as Dan turned off the TV.  
“Well,” said Dan. “Now that the game's over, do you want to . . . ” His voice trailed off, but his look was more than suggestive, and Arin got the point.  
“I'm not sure,” said Arin. “I do—I definitely do—but I think right now it's just too much. I think I'll head home.”  
“OK,” said Dan.  
“You're not disappointed, are you?” asked Arin.  
“Maybe a little,” said Dan. “But it's not like I'm never going to see you again, right?”  
“Right,” said Arin, laughing. Then, more seriously, “Since we're on the subject of seeing each other again . . . Do you want to keep doing . . . whatever this is?”  
“Yes,” said Dan. “Do you?”  
“Yes,” said Arin. “But, remember how I told you spending the night with you gave me some complicated feelings?” Dan nodded, and Arin continued: “Well, making out with you did nothing to help that.”  
Dan laughed. “I get that.”  
“So what do we do now?” asked Arin.  
“Well,” said Dan. “I am completely fine with not rushing anything and just seeing where this goes.”  
“I don't know how you can be so laid back about it,” said Arin.  
“It's a gift,” said Dan. “But I hope you don't take that to mean I don't care, because I do.”  
“I know,” said Arin.  
“So let's just say that the next time we're alone together and we have an opportunity to . . . you know, do stuff, we'll take it.”  
“I can live with that,” said Arin.  
“Good,” said Dan. He leaned in and gave Arin a brief kiss; when he pulled back Arin smiled at him.  
“As nice as that was, I should get home.”  
“I know. I'll walk you out.”  
Arin got to his feet, followed Dan to the front door, and slipped his shoes on. Dan opened the door for him, and together, they walked to Arin's car. A few times, Arin felt Dan's hand graze the small of his back. He climbed into his car and rolled the window down.  
“Today was nice,” he said, smiling up at Dan.  
“It really was,” said Dan. While Arin watched, Dan looked both ways, glancing up and down the street, before leaning down to give Arin a quick goodbye kiss. “Drive safe,” he said quietly as he pulled away.  
“I will,” said Arin. “I guess I'll see you next time we record.”  
“Sounds good,” said Dan.  
He stepped back from the car, and Arin started it. He backed out of the driveway and waved to Dan before driving away. He was halfway home when the giddiness of the afternoon wore off and the reality of what he'd been doing hit him. Dan had held him, and kissed him . . . without warning, Arin remembered the moment when Dan had been on top of him, pushing him into the couch, and he briefly considered turning around and going back to Dan's to finish what they'd started.  
Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and kept driving home. Right now, he knew, he needed space, some time to figure out what he was feeling. He reminded himself of what Dan had said: the next time they had an opportunity, they'd take it. Arin sincerely hoped that opportunity would present itself sooner rather than later.


End file.
